Part 24 (1/2)

”Listen!” Red said, his words fairly tumbling over each other. ”Fred and Mack saw 'em coming up the log road in a station wagon. When they came to the water, they parked and crossed the bridge afoot.”

”They?” Brad caught him up.

”I tell you I don't know who they were. Fred and Mack were on this side of the log bridge. When they saw those birds coming, they hid in the woods to watch.”

”Were they seen by the men, Red?”

”I don't think so. Mack sneaked on ahead to warn you. He's with Chips now at the entrance to this path.”

”And the men are coming this way?”

”I didn't wait to see, but I think so.”

”Jeepers!” Brad muttered. ”If they see that the bushes were pulled away from the path, they'll be suspicious.”

”Mack and Chips took care of that. They put the brush back in place. The only thing that might give us away unless we're seen, are footprints. And it's too dark to make them out now.”

”Listen!” Dan warned, grasping Brad's hand. ”I can hear someone coming up the path now.”

”Duck!” Red advised, taking shelter in the thicket.

Brad started to follow his example, then thought of something.

”That crate of pheasants!” he whispered to Dan. ”Help me with it.”

Dan could not guess what the Den Chief intended to do, but there was no time to ask questions. As Brad carefully swung open the door, he lifted out the crate.

”Easy, so those birds don't start squawking,” Brad cautioned. ”s.h.i.+ft it into the bushes.”

With Red's help, Dan lifted the crate back out of sight. Meanwhile, Brad had closed the door of the lean-to.

The approaching footfalls and murmur of voices now were very close.

Flattening himself on the ground, Brad crawled into the bushes, disappearing into their shelter just as two men entered the clearing.

CHAPTER 12 A Crate of Pheasants

In the indistinct light, the Cubs scarcely could distinguish the features of the two strangers.

Both were dressed in rough clothing and high rubber boots. The taller of the pair wore a large-brimmed felt hat which completely hid his face.

The other, whom the Cubs never before had seen, was stockily built, muscular, and walked with a heavy tread.

Neither of the men spoke as they moved directly to the lean-to. The taller of the pair opened the creaking door and peered inside.

”Nothing here!” he exclaimed. ”Not a single crate!”

”Are you sure?” the other demanded, looking for himself. ”Then we've been double crossed!”